by Lori Leger
“Too close to Detective Harper?”
“Yes, but close to my parents, which is where I need to be.” She checked her watch and sighed. “Come on, it’s time to get back to work.”
Angelique placed the last of her dishes in the cabinet and poured herself a half glass of wine before relaxing on the couch with a book. She’d only read three pages before her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and made a face.
“I’m sorry,” she said immediately into the phone, before she lost her nerve.
“Angel?” the caller asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah, Mike, it’s me; and I owe you an apology,” she said.
“I’ve been trying to call you for two weeks to apologize for the other day,” Mike insisted.
“I know, and I should have returned your calls. I’m sorry for that, also.”
“Well now I’m confused all to hell.”
“You were right, I was jealous, even though I knew I didn’t have reason to be.” She chewed on her lower lip while waiting for him to reply. “Are you still there?” she asked after a lengthy silence.
“Still here,” he mumbled, “just terrified to put my big foot in my mouth again.”
“I am sorry, Mike. Sarah is a wonderful lady, and her twins are darling. We’re already great friends and I never should have asked if you had feelings for her.”
“I don’t, you know, but can’t I gloat just a little that you were jealous?”
“Go ahead. I guess I have it coming.”
“I’ll save it for the next time I see you. Now, how was your day?”
“It was good. Sarah is going to be a wonderful addition to the Lake Coburn clinic.”
“Great news, but does this mean there won’t be any delay in you moving back to God’s country?”
“Lafayette doesn’t exactly spit out affordable rent homes, Mike. It may take me awhile to find a place.”
“You like the neighborhood I live in, don’t … ?”
“I’m not moving in with you,” she cut in.
“I’m not asking you to. There’s a house on the next block that’s up for rent. The owner asked if I could help her find someone reliable. She’s not advertising, because she wants to be selective.”
“Is it livable?” she asked. “I’m not sure I can afford a house in that neighborhood.”
“It’s spacious, and in great shape. Nan is going to Paris for two years and just wants someone in it. She doesn’t want to go through the bother of switching all the utilities off; she wants everything left in her name.”
“No deposits?” Angelique asked.
“That’s right … Now you know why she asked me to help her find a reliable renter. She inherited the place and is only asking the loan note for her renovation.”
Angelique made the sign of the cross and asked the important question. “How much?”
“Four hundred and you pay for all the utilities. She said the satellite is optional, because she’s already fulfilled her contract agreement. She can cancel it or leave it on for you if you want to pay the bill; either way is fine.”
“That’s less than half what I was paying in Lake Coburn. When can I see it?”
“As soon as possible, because she said if there’s any furniture you want her to leave in the house, it’ll save her from putting it in storage…especially her antiques…she’d rather have them being used and taken care of. I told her you may be interested, and that I could personally vouch for you.”
“So what’s this woman’s name, and how well do you know her?” she asked, fighting back yet another bout of unexpected jealousy.
“Her name is Nan Miller, and she’s head of our neighborhood watch program. She’s absolutely gorgeous, inside and out,” he added for effect.
“Two years in Paris, huh?” she said, flatly. “How nice.”
“What do you think, dear?” The diminutive woman had to step back to look all the way up at Angelique. A curly cap of snow white hair framed the face that was still relatively wrinkle-free, despite her seventy something years. Blue eyes sparkled with delight as she waited for her to answer.
Angelique walked around the beautifully landscaped backyard, to where Nan stood, surrounded by fragrant blossoms of early blooming tulips and daffodils. “It’s absolutely perfect, and I’ll take it, if you’ll have me.”
Nan smiled broadly, finally displaying a few well-earned laugh lines. “Of course, dear, I know Michael would never suggest anyone who wasn’t completely trustworthy. He’s such a good boy. I don’t want my wonderful place to sit here empty and lonely for two years. Houses die a little each day when they’re alone, did you know that?”
Angelique smiled at her charming, if a little quirky, prospective landlady. “No, ma’am … I hadn’t heard that, but it makes perfect sense to me.”
“Of course it does. A house isn’t a home until it’s filled with love. Houses aspire to be homes from the second they’re created, just as humans aspire to be loved from the second they’re born. A home and its human have a symbiotic relationship, you know, each beneficial to the other. It pleases me immensely to know that someone who understands that will be keeping my ‘Sonny’ company for the next two years.”
“Sonny?” Angelique looked around warily, suddenly expecting to see either a pet of some kind, a grave, or even an urn filled with a dead husband’s ashes.
Nan smiled at her. “Sonny is the name I gave my home when I moved in. He wasn’t a happy home until he got a name.” She looked at her with wide set, serious eyes. “You must call him by his name, you know, or he won’t be happy.”
“And…um … what happens he’s not happy?” Angelique asked, trying not to laugh.
“Oh, things will go wrong. For instance, the door on the hall closet will stick and you won’t be able to get to your things. Or you won’t be able to get the windows open, or the front door won’t lock or unlock. Lots of little things like that. But—” she said, pointing to Angelique with an arthritic finger, “—If you call him by his name and treat him right, he’ll do the same for you.”
“I’m assuming you mean he’ll treat me right, but not call me by name…correct?” she said, ready to call it quits if she was wrong. Nothing says deal-breaker quite like a talking house.
“Of course, dear … Whoever heard of a talking house? What a bunch of malarkey. No, no, what I’m talking about is symbiosis at its finest. Can you do that for him?”
Angelique nodded slowly. “I think so.” She turned and looked back at the house. “This place isn’t haunted or anything, is it?” Because ghosts would definitely fit in there as deal-breakers also.
Nan put her head back and laughed jovially. “Oh dear, you’re not one of those crazies who believe in ghosts, are you?”
Angelique shook her head. “No ma’am! I just thought maybe that’s what you … What Sonny … Oh … No, ma’am,” she stammered. “I certainly do not believe in ghosts, and I will definitely be sure to call … Sonny … By his name … Occasionally.” She sneaked a peek at Mike, who stood behind Nan with his hand planted tightly over his mouth in a gargantuan effort to keep from laughing.
“I’m afraid occasionally won’t cut the mustard when it comes to Sonny, dear. You see, I’ve got him quite spoiled to hearing it several times a day,” Nan pressed.
Tight lipped and feeling the desperate need to curse out loud, Angelique finally spoke. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
“But what if your best and mine don’t comp … ”
“I’ll do it!” Angelique interjected loudly. “I will! I’ll call him Sonny every day, all day long, if that’s what it takes to keep him happy. I promise!” The last she threw in as a desperate plea.
The old woman gave her a strange look. “Oh, I believe you dear, but saying it won’t help unless you truly mean it.”
Angelique stared at the old woman then let her head fall forward in dejection.
Nan placed a fragile hand on her arm and giggled girlishly. “I’m joking,
dear.”
“You are?” Angel asked, wondering what part of it she was joking about.
“How could I expect you to feel as deeply for my old friend as I do when you’ve only just met him? That would be absurd!” She turned and walked to the kitchen door, chuckling the entire way. Once she got inside, she called out. “I’ll set out coffee and fig cake.”
Angelique stared at the door until Nan had disappeared from sight. She wheeled to face Mike. “You might have warned me!” she hissed.
Mike held up his hands in self-defense. “I had no idea, I’ll swear to it on the bible! Our neighborhood watch meetings are never here.”
“Hasn’t she ever mentioned Sonny?”
He shrugged. “Every once in a while she’d say she had to get home to him. I always thought he was a pet of some sort. A few people suggested she had a man waiting for her at home. I guarantee that no one thought she was talking about her house.”
Angelique buried her face in Mike’s broad chest to smother her laughter as he enfolded her in his arms. “Oh, Lord, what am I getting myself into?”
His chest rumbled with deep laughter. “To tell you the truth, Angel, I’m still not convinced she won’t call you from Paris once you’ve settled in to tell you she was only kidding. She’s got a hell of a sense of humor.”
“That’s what I’d call a twisted sense of humor. And seriously…I don’t know what would be worse,” Angelique groaned. “Joke or no joke.”
CHAPTER 17
By the next Friday, things were nearly back to normal between Liam and Angelique. After a pleasant lunch at a local Mexican restaurant, they waited in their booth for Sarah to return from the ladies room.
“So, do you have plans for tonight?” he asked.
She threw back the last of her water and nodded. “I have to go pay my first month’s rent and pick up the keys from my landlady. She’s leaving for Paris tomorrow morning.”
“What’s she going to be doing in Paris?”
Angelique cleared her throat and met his gaze. “To quote Nan, ‘Whatever the hell she wants to!’”
Liam threw back his head and laughed. “She sounds like a character.”
“You have no idea,” she chuckled. “You know, I called her last night for some information, and I finally got the nerve to ask why she gave her house a guy’s name. I swear, her answer made me blush.”
“What’d she say?”
She looked through the large plate glass window out onto Ryan Street. “She said she’d loved each and every one of her male partners in life, whether they were husbands, fiancés, or just boyfriends … That the one thing she missed in life was the sexual satisfaction her men had always given her. She thought that if she gave her home a man’s name, she would feel comforted by being surrounded by a masculine presence.”
“Wow … Did she say if it worked for her?” he asked, leaning back to finish off his iced tea.
“It did not.” She blushed slightly and cleared her throat again. “So, she went out and bought the biggest, baddest vibrator she could find, and keeps it in her nightstand.”
Liam coughed and sputtered as tea shot out of his nose, cutting off his breath.
She laughed and handed him a napkin. “Her words, not mine.”
“She admitted that to you?” he asked, as soon as he’d caught his breath.
“I think Nan would admit it to anyone,” she said, nodding.
“How old is she, again?”
“Seventy-six … She was big into feminism and free love and all that, but she looks like every typical grandmotherly type you’ve ever seen. She’s tiny, maybe five foot, with white hair, beautiful complexion, beautiful smile, and crystal blue eyes, just sparkling with laughter.”
Nash raised one hand. “Oh my God. You just described my paternal great-grandmother. That image, along with what you’ve told me about her is enough to traumatize me for life. I think I’d rather forget everything you said, and I sure as hell don’t want to meet her.”
Once they’d controlled their laughter, he managed to ask when she would be making the move.
Angelique shot a look at Sarah, just returning from her ladies room break. “That depends on this young lady.”
“What does?” Sarah reseated herself.
“When I move back to Lafayette depends on when you think you don’t need me around, anymore. To tell you the truth, I think I could leave tomorrow, she’s such a quick learner.”
Sarah made a face. “I’m still a little hesitant with the payroll process. Would you mind staying one more week to make sure I can handle it next Friday?”
“That’s not a problem. I plan on moving a few things in this weekend, and doing some decorating. I don’t think Sonny will die in five days,” Angelique threw in.
Liam allowed himself a quick sigh of relief. That meant he had a little less than a week to work on his lady until she was back on Mike’s turf. A one week temporary reprieve was better than an immediate move, and he’d take it any day of the week.
“Well, honey, wish me luck for tonight,” Nan told Angelique as she looped her purse over her shoulder.
Angelique walked her out to a local taxi service’s van, where the driver was loading the last suitcase. “Good luck, Nan. Do you plan on doing some gambling tonight in New Orleans?”
Nan gave her an incredulous look. “Hell no. Mabel and I are hitting the male strip clubs tonight on Bourbon Street. Maybe one of us will get lucky.”
Already used to her wise cracking sense of humor, Angel barely flinched. “Only one of you?”
Nan made a face. “Mabel isn’t all that much to look at, and she’s got the bedside manner of a GD pit bull. Those combined traits don’t make for a very good roll in the hay,” she said with a cackle. “It’s my sex-capades that’ll keep her imagination going long after I leave this world.”
Angelique dropped her jaw in astonishment. “Seriously?”
Nan gave her a sly wink. “Never underestimate the power of a hefty tip, honey.”
“Well, all right!” Angelique said, giving her a hug. “Just don’t overdo it and miss your flight tomorrow. Oh, and make sure your guy is really a guy. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell in some of those clubs.”
Nan chuckled. “Not if you check in the right spot.”
Angelique laughed as she waved off the cab then turned to look up at her new digs. “Well, Sonny, it’s just you and me for the next two years.” She walked through the front door and stood gazing at the lovely house that Nan’s care and quirky sense of style had transformed into a place to be proud of. Angelique pulled a pad, pen, and measuring tape out of her purse, and carried the step ladder to the living room windows. No sense in wasting a trip when she could be gathering information she needed to put her personal touch into this place.
Mike knocked on the door once then cautiously stepped inside at the mumbled answer. His eyes were drawn immediately to Angelique, standing on a stepladder and reaching up toward the existing hardware on the windows. He paused to admire the shapely curve of her calves, clad in dark stockings that complimented her short, black skirt. Her blouse, normally tucked neatly inside, had pulled loose from the waistband and rode up, giving him a tantalizing view of smooth, bare skin.
He walked quietly up to her and cleared his throat.
Apparently startled by the sound, Angelique tried to turn too quickly and lost her balance. She overcompensated, and the step ladder tilted precariously, taking her with it. Before she plummeted to the floor, Mike caught her gallantly in his arms.
Her breath released in a startled gasp as the tape and tablet flew off in two different directions. She instinctively threw her arms around his neck and huddled closer to him.
“I’ve got you! Sorry, Angel, I thought you knew I was here.”
The rumble of Mike’s laughter pulsed through his shirt and undershirt, making her want to bury her nose in his massive chest and breathe him into her. She lay her cheek against his neck and let his clean, spicy scent
tease her senses. Waves of heat and sexual energy travelled between their bodies, separated only by two thin layers of material. Eyes closed, she paused to savor the moment of being surrounded by the feel and smell of him.
Suddenly aware of his silence, she opened her eyes and encountered his surprisingly intense gaze. Without warning, he leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, then deepened the kiss. Her lips parted and his tongue probed tentatively at the soft interior. The kiss ended too soon for her tastes, leaving her wanting for more.
“Can you stand?”
“What?” One corner of his mouth lifted as she focused on the tiny scar just above his upper lip—caused by a fish hook during a Boy Scout Dad and Me camping trip. Feeling the oddest need to touch it, she placed a gentle kiss upon the scar then flicked it with her tongue, tasting the saltiness of his skin. His arms tightened, pulling her closer as she lifted her head to watch him.
Mike opened his eyes to meet her gaze, and slowly released the breath he’d been holding. “Angel.” The word came out in a tortured whisper.
“Hmmm?”
“I want you.”
“I want you too,” she breathed.
He gave her another kiss. The kind that lingered, ended slowly, with him gently pulling on her lower lip before he finally released her.
She gave a low, throaty moan as the need pulled throughout her lower body. Wanting to make him feel as vulnerable as she did, Angelique placed a soft kiss on the side of his neck then tasted him with her tongue. His pulse quickened, and she could feel him tremble, struggling to maintain control. The fact that he was failing miserably, just as she was, pleased her immensely.
“I’m dying here, baby.” He groaned, shuddering under her touch.
“I am too, Mike,” she gasped.
“Please Angel. Please let me make love to you, Angel. I promise to make it worth your while,” he said, his voice deep with need.
“Oh, God, yes.”
He carried her to the living room, and stopped. “Where?”
“The sofa,” she croaked, sounding desperate.
“There is no sofa.”
She looked around, realizing where they were. “Oh, damn.”